Frozen
by Dorax
Summary: When Torn makes Jak work too much, will our hero unravel at the seams? Or is Torn there to correct his own mistakes? Or is Jak too damn stubborn to be helped?
1. Chapter 1

Hello! My name is Dorax and I've fallen in love with writing again after a long time. I will try to update this story every day, so don't hesitate to smack me over the head digitally if I fail to do so. My normal language is Dutch, so do not hesitate to correct me on my mistakes! I use Word-spellingcheck so it shouldn't be too bad... I hope.

This story is a Jak/Torn, so beware!

Jak and Torn are owned by NaughtyDog if I remember correctly, I own nearly nothing, except the order the words are placed in.

I hope you enjoy my writing! Toedels!

Winter was approaching, Jak could tell. Days were getting colder and less people dared tread outside. In sandover winters never were as cold as here, he wondered if it was because of the disappearance of trees in the general area. Oh well, nothing he could do about it, he thought as he entered the underground HQ after another successful mission. Successful meaning his head was still on his shoulders.

Daxter had already left to stay with Tess, the little guy less adapted to the cold. Jak would leave him there for a couple of days, as the girl was making modified clothing for the ottsel, bless her for that.

Torn was, as always, reviewing documents and maps on the worn-out table that occupied the space, together with several bunk beds.

"Torn, I delivered the eco. Anything else you need me to do?" Jak couldn't help but leave some bitterness in his tone. He had been doing missions almost nonstop the last days; though it kept him warm he was very exhausted at this point.

Very slowly, as if taunting him, Torn lifted his head to stare him in the eyes.

Then he spoke, "Well, since there are still people DYING out there, YES. If it's not too much to ask, mister hero."

The ugly tone combined with the words made Jak flinch. Something heavy settled in his gut. Torn was right, there were still people dying and here he was complaining about being a bit tired…

Staying mute throughout Torn's explanation of the mission, he dashed out the door as soon as the commander was done, not noticing the frown creasing Torn's forehead.

When the boy left, Torn was left staring at the door where Jak went trough. Having had a long day of writing consolidation letters to families, informing them of their dead relatives, he may have overreacted. The list of deaths was endless, some familiar, some not.

Jak had been strangely quiet after he snapped. Normally, he wouldn't have noticed, with the rat usually blabbering away and insulting him every five words.

Plus it wasn't unusual for the green-blondie to be quiet, since he had been a mute and all, but the dark look in his eyes was entirely something else, just like the bags under them that Torn noticed too late.

Somehow, he always forgot the boy's age, with the way the youngster acted and the goatee.

Trying to remember how many missions he had given to the boy, Torn grew uneasy. Was it really two days ago Jak had last slept?

Where did he sleep anyway? He never asked for one of the beds the commander had ready in case they'd be needed.

Plus it was growing increasingly cold out.

Crap, now he began to worry.

Torn made a promise to make the boy rest here once this assignment was done. He'd have no use for the kid if he dropped unconscious from lack of sleep.

Starting to rub his eyes the commander realized he was dead tired as well, exhausted from all the emotional strain.

So he dropped what he was doing and threw himself on a bed, covering up with a fluffy blanket. The last thought before he went to sleep was aimed towards Jak.

'Be careful, kid.'

The soft swish of the door opening awoke Torn from his sleep.

Sitting up straight and throwing the blanket off of him, he noticed something very familiar; the stench of blood. A lot of blood.

Jak stood there, eyes wide and trembling, probably from the cold… totally covered in blood.

The sound of dripping was eerily loud and for a second Torn could only stare in horror.

Shock threw him back to reality as he let loose a string of curses. Hurrying to the blonde's side he tried talking to him, getting him to answer.

What upset the commander most was that Jak remained quiet. The boy just stared with eyes too wide, looking right trough Torn.

The trembling hadn't stopped, so Torn led him to an empty bed, making him sit down and started to peel the blood drenched clothes off the boy's body.

What upset him even further was that some of the blood was frozen, Mar knows how long the idiot had stayed outside in this cold. As soon as the boy was stripped down to his underwear, still not saying anything and letting himself be handled like a child, Torn put him in bed with several blankets on top of him.

The commander recognized the sign of shock, as the boy was left staring at the ceiling. So he did what he had to do.

SMACK!

The commander slapped Jak in the face and a light shock went trough the young one's body.

If possible Jak's eyes grew even larger, starting to fill with tears, breathing ragged.

Torn tried to comfort him but he was harshly turned down as Jak just rolled up in a ball, slapping away Torn's hand.

"Don't touch me," Torn heard the muffled voice say.

"Jak, you gotta tell me what happened. Are you hurt?" The commander didn't like the tone of worry seeping trough his voice, but damnit! He had the right to know what happened to his men! "Are you still bleeding?"

"It's not my blood."

Torn questioned some more but got no response of any kind and before long the breathing of Jak slowed, signalling he was asleep.

So the commander left him lying there undisturbed.

While he worked Torn glanced towards the bed once in a while, but it seemed the boy was in deep sleep.


	2. Chapter 2

_Big kudos to Blackbird1313 for the first review! as always, Jak and Torn are not owned by me! I hope you enjoy this chapter of frozen and do not hesitate to leave a comment._

_Oh Jaaaaak, _came a taunting voice.

He was dreaming, he knew, the scenery of the last evening was played out in his mind. Having just destroyed another KG ammo depot, he had been on his way out when a whole platoon of guards was blocking his exit.

Something too close to fear had gripped his heart, it seemed like the enemy was finally getting smarter.

_*laughter*_

"Well shit," was the best he could come up with as twenty guards took aim.

Escape seemed rather difficult at this point but he knew he could do this; the renegade had been in tighter spots before, although he couldn't remember quite that well when that was.

Suddenly he spotted a very familiar mask. Red hair. Tattoos. Leering smile.

It was the exhaustion mixed together with the adrenaline and distress of seeing his old tormentor again.

Something snapped. He tried stopping it but the strain of the past days was taking its toll.

_Blood. Delicious blood. Claws that sliced effortlessly trough armour, flesh and bone. Guts spilled, faces filled with terror. Ripping masks off just to see the terrified expressions. Erol had long since fled, it didn't matter to the dark one. All he wanted was to release the pure anger and malice he was made of. Though there was some joy too, though, as he let some of the KG live, but just barely. Toying with them was fun. _

_Hearing them beg was fuel to Dark's fire._

_The demon knew something was amiss, as Jak would ussually take over again at this point. It was as if the goody two shoes was completely absent._

_Dismissing it, as he didn't give a crap about Jak anyway, he continued his maniacal fun._

_Screams died down, disappeared in obscene bubbling as he sliced the last throat. _

_Then he went outside for some more fun…_

Not knowing how he did it, Jak forced himself awake.

He just lay there in the dark, pants filling the empty space. Trying to calm his racing heart.

Torn was gone, his heightened senses told him it was the middle of the night. At least he was thankful for the solitude.

Jak didn't think his pride could take it if the commander saw him break down.

Sobs were shaking his chest, but he kept them down. Forced them to return to the heavy and dark place in his gut.

Throwing the suffocating blankets off him, the elf noticed he had been dressed down to his underwear. Foggy memories supported his rather unclothed state.

Great, he thought, Torn _did_ see him break, though he was thankful that he had enough control over his own actions that he had shunned the commander away.

It would be the last thing the older elf needed, a sobbing teenager not capable of keeping his wits about him. This was war.

Not keeping his own meant getting left behind.

Having had to take care of himself from a very young age, Jak was unaccustomed to relying on someone else, and he wouldn't damn well start dragging others down with him.

He WASN'T going down, he chastised himself.

Hard as steel, hard as steel, hard as steel, Jak chanted in his mind as he went to take a shower.

Thank Mar for small miracles, as HQ had been fitted with the standard to take care of its men.

Entering the stall, ice cold water beat down on the teenager. Trying to get those damn feelings coiling in his gut to go away. To freeze. So he could thaw them when all this shit was over and deal with them then.

Torn, meanwhile, was cruising trough the city on a high jacked zoomer. Seeing the owner flee screaming in terror made him shake his head, the war had taken a toll on the citizens.

Anyway, if the commander didn't get any answers out of his subordinate, he would find out himself what happened.

As soon as he arrived at the area the ammo depot was located in, he almost wished the urge to get answers hadn't come to him in the first place.

Seeing the streets littered with unidentified chunks of flesh, intestines and other body parts nearly made him threw up.

Thank god for experience.

Though sadness for the casualties was the most prominent emotion (it was a no-brainer that even citizens were amongst the victims), there was worry as well.

Jak could never have done this.

But the rumoured Dark warrior he kept hearing about was another story.

Ducking in an alley to avoid some KG, Torn took a detour back to HQ, determined to get the whole story from Jak.

He knew there would have to be something ripping the teenager apart from the inside for causing this carnage. Jak isn't this strong, however hard he tried to cover it up.

The commander never knew what happened to little Jak in prison and he doubted he wanted to know, knowing Erol's sick pleasures.

It would have been a treat to know the young Jak, he was sure.

Banning the unpleasant thoughts of what Erol liked to do to captives and the grim regret of not saving the youngster from prison, he re-entered the underground.

Jak was gone.

Shit. It was freezing outside so the commander took to the air again, determined to find that idiotic elf that permeated every single of Torn's thoughts that night.

First stop; Tess's place, as he knew the rat was staying there.

Praying to Mar the kid had at least had SOME sense to get out of the cold.

Why was he so worried about the scruffy youngster anyway? Yes, Jak was an important asset to the resistance, as he could be assigned the most dangerous tasks without even getting a scratch. Or so he had thought.

Torn chastised himself for never considering the teenager's mental state. Because that was what he was, just a small, yet strong teenager.

And Mar knew what crazy ideas teenagers got into their head, not needing to be reminded of his own puberty.

Shudder. No, Torn DID NOT need to be reminded of that.

Jak didn't need a father and Torn damn well wouldn't start acting like one, it wasn't what the kid needed.

But what did Jak need then? A mentor? A friend? Something else entirely?

Whatever Jak needed, Torn knew it wasn't normal for him to be worrying so much over one of his men, however important an asset he was.

The uneasiness in his stomach was even more upsetting.

Arriving at the small apartment Tess occupied, Torn wasted no time in 'parking' the zoomer (crashing it into a wall) and dashing up the stairs.

The buzzing of the doorbell grated on Torn's overused nerves, like a violin being plucked too cruelly.

After what seemed like an eternity waiting in the dim and filthy hallway, the door opened to a ruffled Tess in her pyjamas.

"Tess! Is Jak here?" Torn asked with a somewhat desperate tone in his voice, straining to look into the apartment.

"Wha?" Looking like she just awoke Tess was even slower than normal. "Jak? No, is he lost? Should I wake Daxter?"

The commander growled in annoyance, quickly replying something along the lines of 'keep the rat out of this' before he was off again.

So the kid didn't have enough brains to go someplace warm and safe.

Next time he saw the bastard he'd knock some sense in that thick skull of his!

If he saw him again.

That made the commander pause a second, he wasn't one for pessimism, but with these temperatures…

Stopping that particular train of thought, Torn turned the zoomer around, heading for the harbour.

He had one more place to check before he would be aimlessly wandering around the city trying to find the idiot by sheer luck.

"Ah, esteemed commander. What brings you to my humble establishment in the early hours of night?" Krew blubbered in his make-shift floating thing.

There just was no other word for it. Blubbering.

Torn told himself that an ally full off bodies was nothing compared to the gruesome sight of the floating fatass, but had trouble keeping his dinner down nonetheless.

There was a reason he barely visited the notorious pub and it was blubbering sentences right in front of him.

"I don't have time for your pleasantries, Krew." Torn all but spat. "I'm looking for Jak. Have you seen him?"

Krew, totally unfazed by the ugly tone, just pointed towards a cubicle by the bar.

And indeed, there he saw some very familiar ears sticking out.

"Thanks," he said as he barrelled past Krew, not even registering the surprise on the fattie's face because of the politeness.

As he approached he could see the teenager he had been searching for was troubled.

That is, if the lost look Jak was pointing towards his drink was anything to go by.

With a sigh the commander took a seat opposite to the depressed elf, startling said teenager.

Jak's eyes grew a bit as he recognized the one he thought he had to hide from.

"Torn? The fuck are you doing here?" was the surprised and immediate reaction from the teenager.

"What? Didn't think I'd be the one to visit bars on occasion?" was the annoyed but nonetheless relieved response from the commander.

Relieved, because it seemed Jak had SOME brains, but not that much as he had come to this place to drown out his sorrow.

Jak was clearly taken aback by the annoyance, yep, certainly not as hard as the youth liked to think.

"Jak, I've been looking for you all over! Why are you here, of all places? If Krew thinks you've got a weak spot he'll jump on it like a cookie."

"Yeah, well, sorry! You can stop worrying; your good little weapon can take care of itself so you can go back to the underground." Jak snapped, looking more than annoyed right now.

"Shit Jak, you REALLY think I only see you as a weapon? Why would I search over the whole damn fucking city for you if I thought you could take care of yourself?" Torn snapped back.

"I don't need to be fucking babysat, Torn. I can hold my own!"

"Jak…"

"NO! I'm sick and tired of you mothering me like I'm some KID!"

"JAK…"

"FUCK YOU, TORN! I don't know WHY you decid- "

"JAK! I SAW WHAT YOU DID!" Torn all but roared.

"…"

That hit the spot, Torn thought as he saw Jak wilt in his seat. Maybe too much of a sore spot, though.

At least he wasn't yelling like some distraught teen anymore.

"Tell me what happened."

The blond just looked away and started draining his very alcoholic-looking beverage.

The commander could see there wasn't very much he could get out of the kid now, but maybe after a couple of drinks…

Sometimes the best thing to open a valve was some lubrication.

So the commander signalled over a pretty waitress and ordered two beers (at least he could make Jak drink some proper alcohol), time to see how much the renegade could take.

The surprised look on Jak's face wasn't missed, but the kid kept dead silent, turned in on himself.

This was going to be a long night and damn it, Torn WOULD get some answers!


	3. Chapter 3

I am very sorry that this chapter was so late, I had some personal problems, nothing big! Just needed a bit of time, anyway, I'm sorry if this chapter is a bit hurried... any critiques will be welcomed and I'll work on the coherentness(?) of my stories, I'm still a bit rusty (if not all rust). Next chapter will be longer and more developed! And I hope it's as good as my darling reviewers make it out to be.

I own nothing!

Jak couldn't believe the amount Torn had drank… nor that the commander knew the lyrics to 'girls just wanna have fun'.

When Torn had claimed the seat in front of him, he had thought there would be a battle of willpower, a battle for the story Jak was so desperate to keep to himself. Nothing was less true.

As soon as Torn received his first drink something opened up inside the commander. He began telling stories.

No moral, inspired ones mind you, no; they had been gruesome, horrifying and so cruel it couldn't be anything other than true. Stories about his time in the Krimson Guard and about the battles he had done as a freedom fighter.

The beer flowed freely and the further into the night, the more down to earth the tales had become. Jak listened with wide eyes about the crimes the KG had committed against citizens and prisoners, rightfully imprisoned or not. They seemed to particularly enjoy tormenting those with strong wills, trying to break the strong minds that had stood up against Praxis. Even though Jak slightly winced the first time Torn mentioned Erol, he also noticed he had been quite lucky in prison.

The youngster had had some privileges it seemed, probably being deemed too important to starve or get ill. Other prisoners weren't as lucky.

Torn told about how he had joined because he thought it was right, thought the KG fought crime in the city all too full of injustice.

In the months he was there he had learned how wrong he was and started to sabotage the organisation from the inside. After he had been found out, Torn had apparently escaped out of their clutches and singlehandedly formed the Underground.

Provided the HQ and the missions for volunteers who had also witnessed the cruelty of Praxis's subordinates.

It spoke for the unusual cruelty of Praxis and his employees that one man had done so much to fight against it.

After a short time the organisation had grown so much it had been too much for Torn and this is where the infamous and wise Shadow had stepped in.

Anyway, the more Torn drank the more philosophical he became, talking about living live to its fullest and whatnot.

And when the song 'girls just wanna have fun' came over the speakers there was no holding him anymore, saying it was his favourite song and that he could damn well do what he wanted without other people criticizing him.

It was something else, that much Jak could say. He had never witnessed the second in command so relaxed, never seen this side of him. It was refreshing as well, knowing that that gruff voice could also rise in song and laughter.

The teen couldn't help but relax too, with Torn being so open and trusting towards him. The alcohol helped too of course, but unbeknownst to the commander, Jak had a much higher tolerance to alcohol than him. It was probably his adaptive powers that did the trick.

When Torn finally quited down and ordered another drink, Jak started to open up as well, figuring the commander would probably remember little in the morning.

What Jak didn't know was that Torn really wasn't THAT drunk, he was just trying to bait the teenager out of his constant silent state. Telling some stories about his past he tried getting past Jak's defences and… well, what was he trying to do anyway?

Well, he thought as he swayed a bit, maybe he WAS that drunk. Fortunately for him he was beyond the point of caring. He was just trying to let the teen open up to him. Suddenly, it seemed very important to make Jak trust him, to let him open up to the commander.

So when Jak opened his mouth for the first time that night, Torn went dead silent.

"When I felt I could be free from Praxis for the first time, something snapped inside of me. I felt so angry, so desperate not to get caught anymore, I changed. Not just emotionally, but physically as well. This monster he made me become… I almost hurt Daxter!"

"Heh, big loss there." Torn said jokingly.

"Well, for me it would have been. You never knew him when he was an elf."

"Wait. That rat was an elf first? Surprises me after I saw him cling to your shoulder so naturally."

"Yeah, he's always been a good friend of mine." Jak said, irritated. "No badmouthing him when he hasn't done anything wrong okay?"

"Okay, okay." Torn said, backing off. "You were telling me of that dark warrior, no? Seems cool though, having some strong backup in case of."

"No Torn, it's NOT cool. You saw what it was capable of…"

"Oh, don't get down now. It can't possibly be you, you're so sweet." Torn drawled all of a sudden.

At this Jak's eyes widened a bit.

"Seriously, you may act all tough and whatnot, but under all that toughness you're just another teenager crying for some love."

Now Jak's eyes narrowed into small slits. Okay, maybe not the best thing to say.

"I didn't mean you're a kid! You just need someone to love and understand you, man; nothing wrong with that."

A calculating look appeared on the young one's face, one that Torn didn't expect to see on such a gruff face. Maybe the kid had some brains after all.

"What!?" Jak suddenly spat.

Uh oh, did he really say that last part out loud? Well at least he doesn't know my certain fondness of him, Torn thought.

That's when Jak's eyes grew as wide as saucers and a slight blush started creeping up his cheeks as well.

"What? Did I say that out loud too?" Torn slurred.

"Yep, time to go home, bastard, before you declare your love or something. Waiter! Check please!" Jak yelled past Torn.

After some bargaining with Krew, they were out on the dimly lit streets, trying to find their way home on foot. None of them was in any state to drive, let alone steal a zoomer. So wandering the streets, keeping themselves upright by clinging to each other, they found their way to Underground HQ.

The soft swish of the familiar door came as a relief to the both of them, as they were both completely chilled to the bone, shivering uncontrollably.

The cold had them so desperate; they didn't even bother to remove any clothing before they fell into a bunk. Cuddling up to each other for warmth and falling asleep almost instantly.


	4. Chapter 4

Hello! Sorry this chapter took so long! But to ease the pain I've also made a drawing to go with this piece: #/ d5kx57b

Just take out the spaces, hopefully this will help to paint the picture in your mind nicely. Like my reviewers asked, I will be rewriting chapter 3, don't worry, it's the first thing on my todo list. As always, I hope this is as nice as some reviewers make it out to be!

I don't own Jak and daxter, or Torn, or the Underground,...

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_**Torn's POV**_

Torn awoke with a sharp pain in his skull, but strangely comfortable. The pain made him curl a bit more around the warmth he had in his arms.

He sighted in contentment, nuzzling soft hair that was available.

Wait, hair? He couldn't remember when his blankets became so hairy…. Or hard.

Carefully opening his eyes, hoping it wasn't what he thought it was, blond hair filled his vision. And his hands.

Torn froze, but oddly enough he felt comfortable, with the small teen trapped in his arms. When he saw stray locks of Jak's hair, escaped from the headband which had come loose overnight, lightly moving because of the teen's breathing, something stirred in his stomach.

For a moment Torn thought he was going to be sick from drinking so much, that was until he felt Jak clinging to the front of his shirt.

Making sure the kid was fast asleep, Torn continued staring at him, which in turn made the feeling grow into something much warmer, something more defined.

Eyes wide, the commander instantly knew what had happened, seemed like the adoration he felt for the renegade was something way stronger, something he already had experience with.

Crap, he thought. I need to get away from him.

Careful now, he thought, as he softly started peeling Jak's fingers off his shirt. Next was moving the trapped arm as quietly and fast as possible, without waking Jak and possibly landing himself in a more than lethal situation.

Jak sighed but didn't wake up. Torn, fixing his armour and hair, which had been totally messed up while sleeping, went to his usual spot by the table.

A string of curses escaped him as he realized what he had felt. Apart from the headache there was still this fuzzy feeling which made him almost giddy. Somehow, it pissed him off, which in turn worsened his headache.

Thank god he had drank beer, it made for a less horrifying pain in the morning. Resting his head in his hands he sighed again, looking over to the softly snoring elf, still curled on one of the bunks.

'Why am I feeling this way now?' he thought to himself with a hint of bitterness. Torn was old enough to know what all these warm feelings meant. Oh no, he thought, certainly not a stranger to them.

Although it was the first time he felt this way towards a man, not that it mattered, even if it was a girl, this wasn't the time for soft emotions and love.

And Jak wasn't really the right person either, besides the fact that he was still a teenager for Mar's sake, something wasn't right with the boy. He had seen it the first time he had met Jak and the conjecture was strengthened every time he saw or heard the kid.

He knew he didn't give a crap about age, nobody was young in a war, but this dark warrior was something (someone?) that unsettled him even more.

Were Jak's problems the reason for this Dark persona or was it the other way around? Well, anyone would have had mental problems if their rage manifested itself so clearly, but it seemed Jak was angry all the time.

He'd seen it. Worse yet, he even saw it when the kid was asleep, that soft curving of his brow indicated restless nights, just like the dark shade he saw under the teen's eyes.

Sometimes it was less but it was never far off the surface, Torn could tell. Never mind the teen already had a temper which rivalled his own.

Aside from the anger, there was always this coldness surrounding him, never letting anyone close and it seemed the rat was an exception.

Something ugly twisted in his gut.

"FUCK!" And in his mind, he chanted: 'I'm not jealous of the rat, NOT jealous, notnotnotNOTNOT GOD DAMN FUCKING RAT!'

Blind rage, partly directed towards himself, made him throw a glass at the opposite wall. It wasn't that he had wanted to break something, although it felt good, the glass just wasn't having his lucky day by being the closest thing in Torn's vicinity.

Then his headache speared him, well, that's what it felt like anyway, and with a groan he threw himself in his chair again.

"Torn?" Came a slightly confused voice.

Crap, the commander thought, I can't let him notice these 'feelings'. Ugh, thinking about those fuzzy emotions in his belly still pissed him of somewhy.

One thing was clear though, Jak could really not know of these particular feelings. Torn shuddered a bit, he doubted the kid had enough mental capacity to deal with it. Not that he thought the renegade was dumb, no, but he knew teenager just equalled emotionally disturbed and Jak had it worse than others.

Torn fixed his gaze on the papers on the table, as it seemed he had been staring at the younger elf for a while now. Luckily, Jak was blissfully unaware, tidying his appearance like Torn had done.

_**JAK'S**_** POV**

"…UCK!"

CRASH!

Jak jumped, awake, eyes wide and prepared for anything. No enemies in his direct vicinity it seemed. More than once he had awoken at the tip of a KG boot in his stomach.

Then he recognized the décor of the underground, his racing heart slowing a bit. Confused, he looked at the only other person there, who was looking totally miserable.

"Torn?"

Then he saw the shattered glass lying a few metres from him. Not even bothering to ask what pissed Torn off so early in the morning, Jak stood, noticing his dishevelled appearance.

While tidying up a little, his brains started to remember last night's events. Was the commander a friend now? It seemed unlikely, but it was worth a try to find out he thought.

"Are you okay?" Jak asked somewhat carefully, as Torn was staring holes through something on his table.

A sigh, followed by the gruff answer, "Yea, I'm sorry I woke you. I'm going out to get some aspirin, you want some?"

Jak was quite happy with that response. Maybe they were becoming friends after all.

"No thanks, I don't get headaches from drinking; apparently you don't have the privilege."

"Ah aha, no, I don't have that, no. Anyway, I'll be right back. Stay here, I need you to do something for me later. Try to get some more sleep," he advised, looking confused.

Torn was out of the door so quickly Jak hadn't seen the soft expression the commander had, despite a headache. Nor did he notice the unusual kindness he was greeted with in the morning. Sometimes it was a good thing Jak was so emotionally dense….

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Don't be afraid to review!


	5. Chapter 5

Hello, my dear readers, I am so sorry for making you wait. But to my defence I have two children, tons of housework to do, a comic to complete, fake pokemon to draw and an addiction I'm trying to lose. I kow they're just silly excuses but I still hope you will enjoy the following chapter. Gasp! Plot ahead! :D

Also, for all those reviewers that have been supporting me (you know who you are ;)), I can not express my gratitude. I love you guys!

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Torn's POV

"What?!"

Torn was frozen. The appartment he was in seemed to twist and turn before his eyes, a cup of coffee forgotten in his hands. Nothing mattered right now, except for the words the other had spoken.

"All six of them.", came the affirmattive reply.

Six safehouses, six, just those with families and children. No survivors.

"H…how? How did they know?" As Torn said this an image of Betty appeared, a mother of three. She had always been so kind. It was clear that baron Praxis was resorting to pure cruelty to lower the moral of the underground and by Mar, it was working.

But only attacking the safehouses with women and children of members of the underground, that was low even for Praxis. Though it meant the KG were feeling threathened enough by them to resort to such measures, it couldn't be of any comfort to the rest of the families.

"Where did that BASTARD get his information from?" The commander's voice was harsh, no emotion coming through. In front of his men he could not crack, no matter the casualties, he had to be firm, like a rock, so they could rely on him. Despite this, Torn had to swallow the sobs coming from deep within, from this gruelling sorrow that was rising in his chest. He had played with the children, chatted with the mothers, but he had to forget all that…

Taking a large sip of his coffee, he felt the liquid burning his throath, adding a different kind of pain to his emotions. Thoughts were running in circles in his mind; who'd sold them out? There had to be a traitor amongst them, no one besides the Underground knew of the families that were supposed to be protected.

Barris, the man who'd provided him with the news, was looking increasely uncomfortable. But when he spoke, his voice resounded with determination.

"We don't know, yet. There weren't too many people who knew of the safehouses, but as Mar is my witness, I will kill the one responsible for this."

"No, you won't."

Barris' eyes widened, something akin to anger showing in his eyes.

"How can you say that? What about the fathers who've lost their children? Their wives? How will they ever get peace?"

"I said NO! You won't concern yourself with this, you are too conflicted. Answers are what I need, not another dead body."

The sturdy elf nodded reluctantly, though his eyes remained angry.

"Barris, I promise you, once I have my answers, the bastard who sold us out won't live a minute longer."

They locked eyes and Barris nodded again, more convinced this time.

"I have to go, to sort this all out. Mar knows how many people I can trust right now. Keep your eyes open, if you suspect someone, you come to me, got it big guy? No heroics or revenge before I have affirmed the culprit."

After leaving, Torn felt more alone than ever, who could he trust? He always had to be suspicious of everyone, but this incident proved he had not been suspicious enough. It could be the KG captured one of their men for questioning with a bit of torture thrown in for good measure, but it was nearly impossible. The safehouses were kept so secret that half the underground hadn't ever even known of them. How did Praxis know? Where did he get his information, where did he get this idea from? Praxis had never bothered with lowering their morals before, he was more like a guy who wanted to overwhelm them with pure force. What had changed, were they really so close to their goal of overthrowing the tyrant?

Once outside, Torn looked around for a zoomer. The depressed state of the streets had not changed. The people were still walking around with bowed heads, trying not to be noticed. There was no talking to one another, suspicion and fear clung heavily to these people.

If they were close to reaching their goal, Torn had yet to notice.

After a long and depressing ride, trying hard to forget the casualties, Torn arrived at the Underground and crashed the zoomer. Normally, he would have been the more sensible one, taking care of people's stuff, even if it was stolen.

Today, nothing was normal. Plus the crash and boom, combined with the fiery explosion, somehow made him feel better. Maybe that was how Jak felt when he was driving around like a lunatic.

The swish of the door suddenly made him realize the youngster was probably still there. When Barris broke the news to him, Jak had been completely forgotten.

Even the thought of seeing him again couldn't lift the sorrow that was twisting and turning in his chest. Upon entering HQ, the first thing he noticed was a shrill voice yapping away. Great, so the rat had returned, as loyal as ever.

He went to his table, not even bothering to look at the teen or the talking rat. Then an uncomfortable thought came to him, could he trust Jak? What did he know about him? It had been three weeks since Jak had joined them, but he still knew just little shards of who Jak actually was. And one of these shards was as dark as the eco it carried around with it.

Finally looking up, he locked eyes with the object of his thoughts. Was there concern in those eyes?

The sorrow was now twisting together with these new, albeit more positive emotions. It was too much.

"Jak! I want you to scout Praxis's palace, let me know if you see anyone… familiar." The commander couldn't trust Jak, so it was best not to let him know too much. The harsh tone of his voice made the younger one flinch. Torn couldn't let any emotion through. He was sure that if he did, the dam holding back all the sadness would shatter.

"Hey ho, wait a minute, tattoed wonder! You want us to just waltz into the place with hundreds of KG just waiting to shoot our tail off? Just to look for someone "familiar"? Could you be any more vague?" said Daxter, annoyed at being ordered around so casually.

"You will do as I told you, rat! You won't need any more details on this mission because…" Torn bit his tongue to shut himself up, the rat had angered him enough to almost blurt out the real reason. A commander didn't need to explain his reasons to his subordinates.

Great, now anger was thrown in the emotional pit, which was becoming dangerously close to exploding. He was fuming, just another word from the rat and he would strangle the creature for sure. Torn almost hoped he could have something to point his emotions at, even if it was as primal as rage.

"Uh, Torn?" came an unsure, gruff voice. "A… Are you… okay?" seemed like the teenager was noticing his more than usual anger. Torn was surprised to say the least, so surprised even that all his anger vanished. Since when was Jak able to be empathic? It also seemed that even butterflies could flutter in the darkness of sorrow.

Still, he kept his voice steady and hard. He couldn't trust Jak.

"Just peachy, people dying left and right. Why wouldn't I be fine? Now get your asses MOVING!"

Okay, maybe that hadn't been as steady and controlled as planned, but it did the trick. The rat scooted out the door, but Jak looked at him a few moments longer, unfazed by his anger.

He looked almost hurt.

Mar, those eyes would be the death of him. When he finally left, the silence of his unspoken words hung heavy in the room.

And finally, Torn could put his head down and cry for the fallen.


End file.
